


Zirah-leh

by Periphyton



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: And a fluffy blanket, Caregiver!Crowley, Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Everyone Needs A Hug, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I don't have a clue what I'm doing, Jewish Crowley (Good Omens), Jewish theology, Little!Aziraphale, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow burn on the age play bit, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-12-31 01:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21029726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Periphyton/pseuds/Periphyton
Summary: Aziraphale is an angel, meant to be a warrior for God, a Guardian with a flaming sword. It’s bad enough he goes soft, and likes sweets and books and soft clothes. He’s supposed to be the one to Love, not to need love from anything but Her. He’s certainly not supposed to be little or have little inclinations.Crowley is a demon. He’s supposed to tempt people until their souls belong to hell. He’s not supposed to like children. If anybody knew how much he wanted to care for someone else there would be Hell to pay. Literally. And who would trust a demon with a baby anyway? And he’s Jewish, because of course he is.Periphyton is a fanfiction writer who came up with a clever name from her Limnology vocabulary notes. She’s gotten obsessed with Good Omens fandom and had never heard of Caregiver/Little age play until getting sucked into Damaged Dolly’s running series. She doesn’t have a clue what she is doing, but needs a break from doing her graduate school ecology studies.What could possibly go wrong?





	1. Getting started

Chapter 1

There are no children in heaven, and there never had been. Angels were created whole and perfect from their very beginning. They never had to go through the stages of learning how to use their body, their bodies never changed, and they were never little, soft, or vulnerable. Especially after the War. Those who hadn’t Fallen had become Warriors, and those who did Fall – well. 

There were no caretakers in Hell. No one could accept being cared for, because that meant one was vulnerable, and after the agony of Falling, of losing Heaven and Love and burning, any demon showing vulnerability was ripped apart. So no act of kindness would ever be received, even if there was a demon who could still be kind. 

But Earth was different. Earth, even when it barely contained more than a walled garden, was far away from the cold light of heaven or the spying eyes of hell. Here, a little kindness could be offered, and accepted. So on the wall surrounding the Garden of Eden an angel and a demon had a chance to be kind to each other, and to accept the other one’s kindness in return, before being sent out on their opposite and opposing tasks. 

And on Earth there were humans. People. People who were not angels or demons. People who were born as babies and had bodies that grew and changed, and then died. And thanks to Crowley they had free will and the knowledge to choose between good and evil. And oh, did they ever make choices! Choices, choices, so many choices, to be kind or cruel, to be happy or mean, to love or to hurt – or to do both. From birth, through childhood, all through life, reproduction, and death, humans made choices. 

It took the resident angel and demon several generations of watching humans to start to understand the patterns of how humans made choices. It took them several generations just to understand what generations were. But they eventually got the hang of it.

In those early years Crawly made his way by traveling between groups of humans, bringing pots and odd items to trade, along with gossip and trouble. Sometimes he didn’t bother with mischief but just watched people get on with their lives. He watched children play. That was a new thing, playing. He couldn’t remember if angels ever played games with balls and spinning tops and sticks wound with colored string, and certainly no demons ever played games. Well, no games that had giggles instead of screams of agony. So he watched children play childhood games and started adding toys to his cart.

Babies where even weirder than children. Crawly couldn’t understand babies even after watching several generations of them grow up and have more babies of their own. One day while he was helping two women with the wash while trying to get them interested in another woman’s husband he heard a baby crying. Both of the women had their hands full and the baby’s mother just looked at him with her eyebrows asking for help. He picked up the squalling little thing and held it against his shoulder, jiggling it and patting it’s back the way he had seen other humans hold babies. The baby gave a final wail, hiccuped, and whimpered itself asleep in Crawly’s arms.

At that moment, holding a sleeping baby in his arms, something melted in Crawly’s soul that he didn’t even know was there. 

\-----------

Aziraphale didn’t understand children either. Angels were sung fully developed into being by Her, not starting small and squishy then gradually getting bigger. Then making more small and squishy humans who got bigger, and then did it all over again. Death was a shock as well – he had seen angels Fall, but never age and die. It took him quite a while to understand that this was supposed to happen, and would keep happening indefinitely, both the small and squishy part and the growing old if they didn’t die sooner part. And the in-between part from small and squishy to old enough to make more babies. 

It was the in-between part that fascinated him. They weren't babies, but they also weren't adults, and that was both fascinating and unsettling to the angel. He watched a group of kids play a complicated game with a long piece of string and a ball, making up the rules as they went along. The smallest fell down and started to cry over a skinned knee, and another one picked the little one up and swung them around by their wrists until they stopped crying and started laughing. Then that became a new part of the game, throwing the ball up high and trying to spin around as many times as possible before trying to catch it so it wouldn’t hit the ground. One boy got so dizzy spinning in circles waving his arms that he fell down and the ball landed on his face. All of them laughed, even the boy. 

They stopped when they saw the strange white-haired man watching them. That wasn’t good – Aziraphale didn’t want them to stop playing and laughing, not because of him. He had to say something reassuring, something that would show they didn’t have to stop their game because of him. Something properly angelic, smooth and calm.

“Where did you get that ball?” he asked.

“From the red trader.” 

“He’s not red, he’s black.”

“No he wears black, his hair is red, silly.” 

“And he has pretty yellow eyes!” the boy who had fallen down said. “He gave my mom a new pot for some rope, and the ball was in the pot.”

Aziraphale sighed. What was Crawly up to, giving children toys? What type of demonic temptation could that be? He had to do something about this, he couldn’t let these children play with something given to them by a demon. But he really didn’t want to take their ball away. 

“Can I see that?” he asked.

“Sure,” the girl holding it tossed it to him and he caught it in surprise. It was just a ball, dyed leather stitched together with dried beans inside to give it shape and weight. He gave it a small toss up in the air to test it out. 

“Now you have to spin,” the girl said.

“What?” 

“If you throw it, you have to spin around before you catch it,” she explained with a very serious look on her face. Playing games was a serious business, even this grown up with white sheep hair and sky-eyes should know that. 

Aziraphale smiled and did just that. He threw it up and spun around three times before it landed on his head with a _thunk_. All the kids laughed and the angel laughed with them before throwing it to the older boy. That meant it was his turn to toss and spin, before throwing to the next kid. When it came back to Aziraphale he tossed it up, spun around not three but four times before catching it and blessing it. Then he gave it back to the children and went on his way before anybody could see him acting so – so unprofessional for an Angel of God. 

\----------

Nearly six thousand years later, a young archaeology student found a leather ball in a ancient Mesopotamian site she was excavating. The dual discovery of a childhood toy and the ancient beans offering insight to both cultural development and ancient crop genetics got her a prestigious scholarship to pay for the rest of her graduate school, and set her up to become a professional archaeologist for the rest of her life.


	2. Crawly's first little, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pre-flood early Mesoptamia story about Crawly and the first little he takes care of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite things about this fandom is how freely we can inspire each other. This story picks up several points of inspiration, from Damaged Dolly's series to the Akashic Records by PeniG. I'm using her brilliant work with the early part of Crowley and Aziraphale's story as background for part of my own, with permission. This chapter, and the next several chapters, fits in the framework PeniG developed, in particular the chapter 'How a good time ended.'
> 
> < https://archiveofourown.org/works/20169100 > 
> 
> This series is amazing at every level, so go read it. But basically, this story sets up Crawly and Aziraphale as being fairly close to each other for about the first thousand years after Eden, regularly crossing paths, taking, getting drunk, and trying to out do each other. At that time, there was less pressure on them and the stakes weren't as high as they will become as the story progresses. So this is the backdrop I'm using to establish Crawly as someone who likes taking care of children, and Aziraphale as someone who enjoys playing with kids because he is one at heart. 
> 
> Enjoy! I should have the next chapter in a week.

Crawly’s first little, part one.

One thing Crawly soon learned about humans was that they could be as cruel as they could be kind. After all, they were created in Her image, and given free will. Not to mention knowledge of good and evil, courtesy of one sneaky snake. And it was Crawly’s job to take all their bad impulses and make them even worse, so he quickly got used to finding whatever hidden nasty streak a person might have, and tempt them to make it just a little bit bigger. Usually he stuck to grown ups and did his best not to let his work spill over onto kids, but he couldn’t avoid seeing what happened sometimes to children too small and dependent to protect themselves. So he didn’t react much when he saw a woman hitting a crying girl across the face for no discernible reason, other than to take note of the woman’s cruel streak to see if he couldn’t tempt her into some sin that would bite her in the ass later. 

The next time he came around, he kept an eye out for the same girl. He found her crying to herself and rocking back and forth, hidden behind a large pile of hay that some goats were nibbling on. She didn’t look like she wanted company and he respected the privacy necessary for a good cry. Still, a home with a crying child might benefit from a little demonic intervention. It wasn’t hard to get himself invited for a family meal with the whole traveling peddler schtick he had developed, and he just happened to have the very latest in decorated pottery and brightly colored beads for jewelry. He was aware of the girl hovering around the edges as he presented his goods to the older women in the household, afraid to come in but still wanting to see the pretty things he was showing to the other women and girls. 

“Neta – get out of here! Go finish feeding the goats!” One of the older women snapped. The girl disappeared without a sound. Crawly gave her his most charming smile, and sold her the prettiest beads. The biggest one had a snake carved in it. 

It was almost a year before he saw them again. He had spent a night drinking with Aziraphale, after both of them made a complete hash of trying to simultaneously bless and curse a large wedding. On the one hand, uncles from both the bride and the grooms family got in a drunken quarrel that promised to escalate into a series of sheep raids. On the other hand, the brides mother and the grooms aunt were finally able to speak to each other directly and promptly set up a trade deal for wool and spun thread that would make both families richer. All the beer went sour, all the wine was perfect, and the newly married couple was just happy that the wedding would soon be over so they could get on with married life. 

“What, wha did – did you say?” Crawly knew Aziraphale had said something but he couldn’t figure out what.

“I said that blessing oil was a lot harder than blessing water. It’s heavier, y’see, and – and more oily, ‘cause it’s oil, so . . . um, it’s really oily.”

“No, before that – something about goats. Goat milk? Got milk?” 

“Mmm, uh, milk – cheese? Did I say something about cheese? I like cheese.” Aziraphale gestured with his bowel of wine. “Did you know you could turn milk into something else? Something not-milk? I mean it was milk but now it’s not milk but it used to be milk –“

Crawly hissed. Literally. “Not about milk that isn’t milk! About goats! You said something about blessing some goats – why did you bless goats?”

Aziraphale looked at him, hiccuped, and blinked. “Why do you want to bless goats?”

“I don’t want to bless goats, I was asking why you were blessing goats, you silly feather duster!” Crawly wasn’t sure if feather dusters existed yet. Maybe they were like lead balloons – something that did exist but just not at the moment. Whatever they were, that’s what Aziraphale was being right now. Sometimes words did that when he was drunk, just show up randomly and with no sense of linguistic development or anachronistic accuracy. It was very rude of them to do that, Crawly thought, while he watched a very drunken feather duster try to figure out what goats were. 

“Because I couldn’t bless anything else.” 

“What?” 

Aziraphale finished the wine. “That poor family, everything they had seemed to keep breaking down. I tried to – you know –“ he waved his arms around vaguely “tried to stick some blessing on things so they wouldn’t go hungry when their last cooking pot broke. But it just sort of wiggled away. The blessing, not the pot. Finally the only thing I could bless was their last three goats.” He looked down at his empty wine bowel and pouted.

Crawly groaned and rolled his eyes. There was nothing, literally not a damned thing, he could do to stay unaffected by that pretty pouting angel. He waved his hand over the bowl and it filled up with wine. Again. “So you blessed their goats?” he said, to try and nudge Aziraphale back on track.

The angel took a long drink, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He must be the only angel in existence, Crawly thought, to wipe his mouth with his sleeve like that. 

“The goats. Yeah. I could bless the goats ‘cause they were loved. Everything else just kept breaking but I could tell they used to have more. The mother even still had a necklace with the prettiest beads – only pretty thing she had left.” Aziraphale sighed. “At least the little girl loved her goats. Only three left but she hugged them. Poor skinny little thing. Only love in that household I could use.” He took another swig, spilling it down his front. 

Oh crap, that was it. That little girl. Crawly, like the absolutely *brilliant* demon that he was, had made her life harder when he made her family poorer. It’s not like he didn’t know what direction goat shit rolled when things got bad. He’d learned that lesson in Hell, no need to spend a couple hundred years observing humans to learn that the most vulnerable person usually got hurt the worst when others were angry, hungry, or upset. 

He stood up. “Been good seeing you again, but I gotta go. Um, good luck with the next wedding.” Crawly picked up his trading gear, ignoring the angel’s confused sounds, and headed off.


	3. Getting Netta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crawly goes to get the little girl Aziraphale mentioned at the wedding.

It took Crawly two days to get back to that family, which gave him time to plan. He had been up topside for roughly four and a half centuries by now, and he was starting to get the hang of actually planning what he was going to do. His success rate still wasn’t very high but he was working on it. This plan, he thought, should work. It was simple enough, and he didn’t think he would even need to use much of his demonic wiles and temptations. 

When he got there once again the first thing he found was the same little girl, crying behind a very small and bedraggled pile of hay with three plump goats huddled against her. Everything he had so carefully planned to say promptly slumped out his ear and plopped on the ground.

“Um, hey there,” he managed to say. “That’s some nice hay.”

The girl looked up at him, her face covered with tears, snot, and dirt, and she huddled even further into the hay.

“Those are some nice fat goats,” Crawly tried again. 

“My goats,” she whispered, and hugged the spotted one.

“Yes, they are very nice. My friend told me that you have nice goats,” Crawly said, and crouched down on his ankles. “Do you remember him? He has white curly hair and wears white clothes.”

The girls eyes went wide and she hugged her goat even tighter. “He had sky eyes. He was pretty,” she whispered again.

“He is very pretty,” Crawly agreed, because she was absolutely right, Aziraphale was pretty. “We were just a wedding and he told me all about a very nice girl who loved her goats.” 

She said nothing. It got awkward. One of the goats baaah aaah’ed at him. Crawly saw that she was even skinnier than the last time he was here, her clothes were worse, and she had a black eye. “His name is Aziraphale,” he said, just as the goat looked like it was considering eating his shirt. 

She kept looking at him without speaking. 

“Are you hungry? I’m hungry. I have some food, I can share with you. Aziraphale gave me this.” He unwrapped some bread, cheese, and figs, split it up and gave her half. Both the demon and the angel had quickly learned how to use food around humans. 

She looked at the food, her eyes huge but didn’t touch it until he scooted back away from her and took a bite of bread. Then she grabbed it so quickly he thought she had used magic, and shoved everything in her mouth at once. The goats tried to see what she was eating but she whacked them on the nose to get away from her food.

“Don’t choke! Drink some water!” Crawly pushed a water bottle over to her and snapped his fingers for more food to appear in front of her. She drank the water and used what spilled on her hands to wipe her face. When she saw even more bread, cheese, and figs she grabbed them and shoved them in her mouth again. 

Crawly felt his heart twist watching her eat. It was his fault for giving her mother a cursed bead that made everything break just when they needed it the most, pushing her family into even worse poverty. He had been angry that her mother had hit her but he was the one who had made her life harder. But now he had a plan, and he was sure it would work this time.

“What’s your name little one?” he asked her after she drank some more water.

She wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “Netta. Just Netta.”

“My name is Crawly. What are your goats names?”

Finally she smiled at him. “This one is Daisy,” she pointed to the white female, “and that’s Bumble, and that’s Bother.” Bumble was a spotted female and Bother was the male with one big spot on his back who had baaa’aaa’ed at him. She went on explaining that Daisy was the smartest and the oldest, and always liked to eat flowers with her hay, while Bumble and Bother both liked to eat fresh sticks. Bother had once chased away a mean dog that was barking too loud, he was so brave! And Bumble could always find water, always. 

“And she liked Aziraphale! She kept butting her head against him because he smelled nice. He smelled like water, like clean water! And he was so pretty,” she giggled. “He gave me some dates with cheese. He likes cheese, when it’s soft and you can put it on bread. I didn’t have anything nice to give him but ‘cause he was our guest I gave him the prettiest rock I could find. It sparkled. He liked it and said it was like holding a little star.”

Crawly just listened to her and nodded gravely. It was important business, giving guests the best thing a family had to offer. Her little pebble was probably the most sincere gift he had received from this family. And Aziraphale being the angel he was couldn’t not accept a child’s gift without offering a blessing in return, and then talking about cheese. 

“Netta, listen to me. This is very important,” he moved a little closer to her and made sure she was watching him closely. “I need to buy some goats, and your goats are the best ones I’ve seen. But I know your goats like you so much that if I buy them from your family, I want you to come and help me take care of them. I can feed you twice a day and I promise I’ll never hit you.” He smiled as temptingly as he could. 

She just looked at him, and pulled back into herself. This didn’t make any sense and she obviously didn’t believe him. “What do you want my goats for?” She asked, clearly skeptical of this crazy offer.

“They’re for Aziraphale. He told me he wants to see them again because, um,” she just kept looking at him, like whatever he was selling, she wasn’t buying it. What was it with kids seeing right through him when he was trying to be clever? He could tempt any adult so easily and now he couldn’t even sweet talk this little girl into leaving a place where she was starved and beaten. “Because he wants to make sure that they are happy. And that you’re happy.” If he had to trade on her infatuation with the angel to make his plan work, so be it. 

Netta petted Bumble instead of responding. Bother wandered off to find something tastier than old hay, and Daisy looked at Crawly like she was either protecting Netta or considering eating his tunic for lunch. “Are you really buying my goats for Aziraphale? Is he really your friend?” she finally asked and looked at him.

“Yes, he’s my friend,” he said. This was not the time for a complicated story about heaven, hell, and an angel who got drunk at weddings with the demon he was supposed to be smiting. He could tell how scared she was. Even as bad as it was at home, if she left with him she would be truly lost, and truly helpless, if he wasn’t telling her the truth. He didn’t want to just take her because that would be making the decision for her. It was his job to tempt humans, and even though he was still figuring out how to do it right, he knew the difference between temptation and threats. 

Netta opened her mouth and started to say something, when an older boy came running up to them and started shouting. 

“What are you doing, stupid? Talking to somebody? Why aren’t you out getting firewood?!” He walked right in front of Crawly, pushed Bumble away and hit Netta on the head. “We’ve got a guest so we need to cook one of these goats. Go find wood for a fire!”

Crawly stood up and picked up the boy by his collar until his feet were off the ground. Then he smiled with all his teeth. “I’d like to talk to your father about buying some goats. Can you take me to him?” He dropped the boy, still smiling. 

The boy scrambled to his feet and nodded frantically, smiling back even though his eyes were wide with terror. “Of course, yes, my lord, right this way!” He ran off and Crawly followed him. 

Netta watched them go. She was so scared. She didn’t like the way the man had smiled at her older brother. But she didn’t want Daisy, Bumble, or Bother to get butchered for dinner either. Her goats were her only friends and ever since the nice man – Aziraphale – had told them that they should be good goats and always listen to her, they had been even better. Now this man with red hair and snake eyes said that he wanted to bring her and her goats to see Aziraphale. But what if he was lying? What if he was just saying nice things to hurt her later? How could she be sure? But if she stayed here, her father would kill one of her friends and eat it, and nobody would stop hitting her. 

“Daisy, do you like Crawly?” she asked. Daisy was the smartest goat Netta had ever known. She had liked Aziraphale and she seemed to like Crawly. Daisy just stood over her and rested her head on Netta’s shoulder.

“Aziraphale smelled like fresh water,” Netta said to Daisy. “Crawly smells like – like fire. Like a warm fire at night. And he said he was Aziraphale’s friend.” She thought about that. She didn’t like the way he had smiled at her brother, but she did like how he had smiled when he talked about Aziraphale. It was the same way he smiled when she talked about Daisy and Bumble and Bother. Then she realized it: he smiled nice when he talked about his friend and when she talked about her friends, and he smiled mean when her brother had hit her. 

Netta stood up and gathered her goats around her. “Daisy, Bumble, Bother, I’m going to go with him, and all of you are coming with me,” she told them. “And we are going to be so good and helpful he will only have nice smiles for us. And he’ll tell Aziraphale how good we’ve been and Aziraphale will be happy too.” She thought about getting her one blanket and her other pretty rocks but decided it wasn’t worth it. As soon as Crawly came back they were leaving! Right away! She already had her favorite stick, her prettiest rock, her slingshot and small knife, and a small jug for water she carried with her when she went out to get firewood or take the goats to find food. That would have to be enough. 

When Crawly came back he had expected to see Netta still huddling on the ground. He hadn’t expected her to run up to him and hug him so tightly he couldn’t breathe. 

“I’m ready! Lets go! I want to go see Aziraphale again! I told Daisy and Bumble and Bother we’re going with you and they have to be extra good for you. I promise! I won’t be bad I’ll be so helpful!” She hugged him even tighter. Please let me be right about the smiling, she prayed. Please let him not be mean. I promise I’ll be good.

Crawly smiled down at her, one of his nice smiles. “I know you’ll be good. Now I just gave your father and mother everything they needed in exchange for you and the goats, so let’s go.” He hugged her back and they started down the road away from this family and towards somewhere else.


End file.
